Cell: A Novel by Stephen King is a few things: a zombie novel, a post-apocalyptic adventure novel, and a bloodbath.
This isn’t going to be a review in the traditional sense. I’m using this as a place to reflect on the things I liked and didn’t like about the novel, not as a method of recommendation production.
Background: I loves me some Dark Sun. It was the first game world I really DM’d, and I played it for years in college. I am utterly biased in my affection for the setting of this novel, and knew that going in. I hoped Jeff Mariotte wouldn’t disappoint me and write a novel that didn’t ‘feel’ like Dark Sun.
Pax and Gaea stepped out of the Sweetwater Inn into the cool night air. Quinon and Selene walked just behind them. Both moons had risen and shone down on the empty street. An occasional dry breeze shifted the bit of sand on the stone. Gaea shivered.
Gaea began to make her parting gestures, but she and Pax both noticed a large group of thugs standing in a nearby square. One thick hewn man, in particular, berated the others. He stood flanked by two men in well worn armor, each with long barbed spears. Those he berated cowered in front of him in little more than shackles and loin cloths. He then turned to greet the newcomers.
“Word on the street is you lot is lookin’ to get yourselves sold in Urik”. The large man sneered as he hefted his obsidian axe. “We can help with that.”
I finished my writing intensive at ChuckPalahniuk.net. It went well. I got some good rough drafts out of it, and I got to experience some good discussion over form and content. I met some other writers. All of that went well. I’m grateful for the experience. I would have liked a bit more ‘pro’ level feedback, and not all of the feedback from my contemporaries on my work was useful. Though, my feedback wasn’t always a homerun, either. Probably the best lesson I took from it was the discussion of dialog, and I think I’ll find that very useful moving forward.
In addition to my regular short fiction, I will also be posting story hours from my RPG game. I play D&D with a couple of friends every other week or so, and give myself the story hour write up as yet another practice for writing.
This stuff with typically be fantasy and based on events at the table. I write (or crib) the adventures originally, but the people playing put words in the mouths of their characters and make them act. I attempt to preserve those words and actions as I transfer it into narrative, but I take liberties as well.
4E combat is intricate and lengthy. I will not recount combats blow by blow. Instead, I will endeavor to hit some of the highlights and convey the general feel of a given encounter. If it was a breeze, it should seem like a breeze. If the combat became an endurance test, it should seem that way as well.
I had been posting this elsewhere, but I figure I may as well have all of my writing in one place.
Pax Gladius (Formerly: Vulgus Maximus): Vulgus is a tiefling templar of Tyr who supported the status quo and Kalak’s regime but was too unimportant for Tythian to order executed post-coup. Formerly a slave pit guard, Vulgus was bereft of a leader, an order, and a purpose. He shortly shook himself of his ennui, and forged for himself a new purpose. He is a templar after all, and what is a templar’s primary obligation? To uphold the law and order of the city-state. So what if by tradition, templars hadn’t truly done that for hundreds of years. It was time for someone to start. This new purpose firmly in his mind, he changed his name to Pax Gladius. He would fight for the law and see it upheld.
Quinon of the Forest Ridge: A halfling raised in captivity by templars, Quinon was freed by decree of Tythian and the Council. That did not mean he knew what to do. People had told him where to go and what to do his whole life. He looked for the answers to his life questions at the bottom of every cup he could find. Pax found him in this state, and gave him those answers. He would continue to support the templars, at least this templar; it’s what he knows. Besides, the tiefling doesn’t seem to get too bent when Quinon calls him ugly.
The couple sat in their Adirondacks on their back patio looking at their recently trimmed backyard. A cool breeze occasionally stirred the night air. A fire glowed in a nearby fire pit. Each held a bottle of Shiner.
“Nice night.” Kevin said.
“All week’s been good.” Steph replied.
He nodded and stared at the fire. A dog barked in the distance.
“I had to print something earlier,” said Steph.